<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>First Time For Everything by quiznakeries</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517634">First Time For Everything</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiznakeries/pseuds/quiznakeries'>quiznakeries</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>HE WAS A SKATER BOI, HE SAID SEE YOU LATER BOI [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Keith (Voltron), Friends to fwb, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shitpost-ish, quarantine fic, skater!katt au, twitter thread</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:49:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517634</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiznakeries/pseuds/quiznakeries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt crashes Keith's apartment for company during quarantine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matt Holt &amp; Keith, Matt Holt/Keith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>HE WAS A SKATER BOI, HE SAID SEE YOU LATER BOI [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>First Time For Everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is just stupid boys and porn</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith is, much as any other time Matt ropes him into something, not entirely sure how they ended up here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the both of them able to work from home, they are two of the lucky ones when it comes to this whole pandemic quarantine thing, and Keith had set out to hole himself up in his apartment as long as it’s recommended. He doesn’t mind spending time alone, and honestly, if Matt didn’t burst through his door a few times a week to drag him outside, he’d probably be far more of a shut in already to begin with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, as things have turned out, he’s not spending this time locked away in solitude at all. Instead, he finds himself with a temporary roommate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Really though, Matt had just shown up at his door with a suitcase and a declaration of his intentions to stay until further notice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which is fine. Matt spends so much time at Keith’s place it’s hardly a big change, anyway, and this way he’ll have someone to split stuff like cooking with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And in all seriousness, it’s probably good for him not to isolate himself alone for a long period of time. The company will be good for him. So it’s fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Day one was a cakewalk. Matt arrived in the early afternoon and they spent the day working. Matt coding away, hunched over the tiny dining table, and Keith making cold sales calls while sprawled out on the couch. Whenever some poor soul decided to buy some of the fancy ass electric toothbrushes his department are selling at the moment he’d register the sale on the iPad resting on his stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When nighttime came along they threw a frozen pizza each in the oven and played video games until they both passed out in Keith’s bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Day two was more of the same, Matt coding and cursing, Keith on the couch. Shared meals. Games, TV, beer, sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On day three Keith found himself pacing the one bedroom  apartment with his headset on, pad under his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Usually, three days cooped up wouldn’t be a problem. Not as long as he got his workout and had something to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But there’s a certain issue he had not taken into account when agreeing to housing Matt for the unforeseeable future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The apartment is tiny, with walls that are paper thin and not even a proper door to the bedroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not having any privacy to get off in peace is not okay. Which is why this arrangement is not fine, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And damn him, he’s too stubborn to go rub one out in the shower like a normal person. This is his own home, he’s not reverting to being thirteen and trying to be as quiet as possible so no one will hear. He’s just not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When day four rolls around, he’s starting to wonder if Matt just has super powers or if he gets up when Keith is asleep to jerk it undisturbed, because the guy doesn’t seem any weirder than usual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith is kicking himself back and forth across the room on his skateboard, waiting for whoever it is he’s calling to pick up, when Matt brings it up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I must say, I thought it’d be me to go stir crazy first.” He snickers, sticking out a foot to halt the board when Keith gets close enough. Keith doesn’t get the chance to answer, as the person on the other line finally decides to take his call.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night Keith asks himself if maybe he’s the weird one. How long do people go without getting off before they start to feel that annoying itch under their skin? How long before they start to lose their minds?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith has yet to reach the latter, but he really, REALLY doesn’t want to get there if he can help it. Just the itch is bad enough, thank you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go down to the corner store and get some cereal.” He tries, poking Matt in the side with his toes. “We’re out of Frosties”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt grabs his foot and shoves him off. “Go get it yourself, man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Consider if payment for me letting you stay here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt just snorts. He doesn’t go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s six am when Keith wakes on day five. It’s dark, and beside him on the bed Matt is snoring softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It really doesn’t help his case, waking up with a warm body next to him, a bony ankle hooked over his leg and the smell of his own hair products intermingling with his best friends signature scent. Warm and boyish, a little spicy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith tries. Really tries not to trace the soft lines of Matt’s arms and shoulders, the planes of his naked chest in the pale blue light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He fails, hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not like it’s news he thinks his closest friend is nice to look at. He’s a gay man with a type and 20/20 eyesight, and Matt with his lean muscle and goofy smile ticks off every box on Keith’s list.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s just how things are.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt grunts in his sleep, turning his head and stretching his neck long. The little light seeping in through the blinds gets to work at once, highlighting every dip and curve of Matt’s neck and jaw. A little pulse of heat runs down Keith’s spine. Pools low in his belly, and he’s annoyingly aware of his morning wood poking at the sheets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe Matt wouldn’t even wake up. It’s still so early, and the guy sleeps like a log more often than not. Keith could just- reach down and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay, no. He’s not going to masturbate with his friend sleeping two feet away on the same bed. Especially not to the image of said friends chest rising and falling in sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nu-uh, nope. Can’t do that. No way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow he manages to roll himself out of bed, and furthermore out of the apartment for the first time in almost a week. It’s so early still, it’s pretty dead outside, and fuck if he doesn’t need a run now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he gets back, Matt is starfished face down on the bed, still asleep. Keith questions what his life has come to, when the ridiculous image still somehow makes him want to jump the guys bones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His shower is quick and cold, because apparently he’s going to keep torturing himself. He then proceeds to make coffee, toast some bagels before Matt stumbles out of bed with puffy eyes and a line of drool dried on his chin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After breakfast, Keith has a couple of hours before he needs to get back to work, and so he settles in to watch Netflix and snooze until the clock hits ten am. But he doesn’t expect for Matt to join him, even if they’re off to an early start this morning. It’s more typical for him to either get started with his day or go back to sleep, not rewatch How I Met Your Mother for the fifth time at eight in the morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But there he is, sitting down on Keith’s feet at the end of the couch and pretending not to notice the wiggling toes between his tush and the cushion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt makes himself comfortable, eyes locked in his phone. Keith watches him out of the corner of his eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he snorts, sucking in his lips around a smile. It’s cute.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith needs to get a grip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s so funny?” Keith wiggles his toes again, and Matt squirms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sending it to you now.” is the response he gets, and sure enough, his phone pings within seconds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a collection of quarantine memes, because of course it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“People are fucking nuts.” Keith says after scrolling through a few.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt cackles and agrees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you see number 20?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith fast-scrolls down to the 20’th meme on the list, expecting another twitter video of someone playing tic-tac-toe with their goldfish, or a thousandth joke about toilet paper hoarding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not, though. It’s a photo of a well stocked shelf of condoms and shit, with the caption “next episode of planet earth: quarantine babies, quarantine babies everywhere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith snorts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You bummed you’re not locked up with some girl making quarantine babies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt clutches his chest and gasps, like the fucking dork he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Keith! What do you mean? Two dudes can’t make babies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty sure that’s how it works Matty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narts.” Matt sinks into his seat, arms crossed and sulky looking. “All this planning to knock you up, down the drain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith flinches at that, but he’s quick to play it off as a move to kick his moron friend in the ribs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no helping the heat rising in his cheeks, though. Matt shrieks and rolls off the couch and out of reach for Keith’s heels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re disgusting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awh noo, Keithy cat!” Matt coos, batting his eyelashes at Keith from where he’s curled around the coffee table. “No need for bad temper and violence in hard times like these.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Serves you right.” Keith stands just to bring a socked foot up in Matt’s face while he can. “Didn’t even try to woo me first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a joke. One he shouldn’t make because this is one dangerous path, but- now that it’s started, he can’t help but itch to see how far he can take it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt struggles against the onslaught to his face, strong fingers wrestling Keith's foot and almost toppling him off balance. “So sorry!” he laughs. “Should have known you’d need some easing and greasing before consummating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever Keith prepared to say next dies on his tongue, and he bursts out laughing. It’s enough to fuck up his balance, and he falls back down on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard” he tries to sound snarky but it comes out as a giggle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt, now lying directly below him aligned with the couch, crosses his arms over his chest. Keith peers down at him, and pretends it doesn’t do something for him to see Matt like this. With his hair spread over the carpet around his head, skin flushed a light pink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I was being chivalrous.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll kick you in the head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Matt reaches up to slap Keith wherever he can reach. “I’m trying here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a blessing Matt can’t see his face from here, when he visibly gulps. “Trying for what, exactly?” 10/10 chance he doesn’t look nearly as confident as he makes himself sound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try to keep up Keith.” Matt gets a hold of Keiths shirt, tugs him to the edge of the couch. “I’m wooing you so we can make babies. Get your head in the game.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith almost chokes, on laughter and something else. He shoves his face into the cushion, cherry red and hot like a furnace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought we came to the conclusion we can’t conceive.” he mutters into the worn fabric.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We could always try! Miracles happen all the time, man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fucking /abort mission/. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a stupid joke and it should by no means be turning him on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His dick is a traitor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And really, honestly, he’s just going to peek over the edge in order to give this dumbass his best possible deadpan stare. Really.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt looks up at him all fun and dumb with a glint in his eyes and his jaw is so fucking sharp-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Much like every other time Matt ropes Keith into something, he’s not quite sure how they got here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here” being wedged between the couch and the coffee table together, Keith with his knees on either side of Matt’s thighs, hands on the moron's shoulders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt is bug eyed under him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There kitty, don’t kill me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not promising anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s useless, he’s already flushed and sporting a partial, and clearly he’s lost his mind anyway. Might as well throw caution to the wind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt squeaks when Keith dips down to slot their lips together. They’re nice and soft and warm and Matt is kicking his legs out and it’s ruining Keith’s shit at bliss, here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes to himself, Keith retreats. He glares, and Matt sputters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know that I was-“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith raises an eyebrow, glares some more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, really?” Matt’s face twists in a series of processing emotions. But ultimately, he lands on some flirty half smirk that makes sparks pop in Keith’s skull. “Yeah okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>See? Keith doesn’t need words to get his message across.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then they’re kissing. Properly, now that Matt has caught on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And oh, /god/.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s good. It’s real good. Matt kisses him nice and firm, long fingers already tangling in Keith’s hair and holding on tight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith is 60% sure he’s still asleep and dreaming this entire thing, because it just doesn’t make sense how someone he’s never kissed before can do it exactly as he likes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tugs Keith closer by the hand in his hair, and when Keith gasps at the motion, there’s a first press of a warm, slick tongue sliding past his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simultaneously, Matt’s other hand curls over his hip, thumb rolling circles on his skin and making his damn nerves buzz.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith loves it. How Matt tilts his head to where he wants it, changing the angle to kiss him deeper. The faint, cool taste of toothpaste lingering in his mouth, the sound and feel of Matt breathing through his nose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith will never admit it, but he’s wanted to do this since Matt set a perfect bullflip down a flight of stairs two years ago. Backlighted by a setting sun and wearing Keith’s favorite beanie he’d come flying down and /nailed/ it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he laughed like a mad man and shook Keith by the shoulders. And DING, it was like someone flipped a switch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Typical for something to shake loose in his brain at that, and not one of all the times he’s almost cracked his skull open on pavement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sinks into the kiss, limbs growing heavy. His hands have slipped up Matt’s neck, cradling his head in his palms with his thumbs tracing the lines of Matt’s jaw. It’s stupid hot, feeling it shift as their mouths work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt changes the angle again and /fuck/ that’s good, that’s so good. He can’t damn well help it, the subtle roll of his hips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it’s fine, because where he moans at the little friction it provides, Matt does as well. Better yet, the movement allows him to feel the outline of Matt’s half hard dick through their sweats.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he does it again, this time less subtle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shiver goes through the man beneath him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith soaks it up, swallows the little gasp that escapes Matt’s lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next time around, the hand on Keith’s hip moves down to clutch on to his ass cheek. It guides him into a more consistent roll and grind, a rhythm taking shape quickly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt raises his hips to meet him, and it punches some filthy fucking noise from deep in Keith’s lungs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bane of his existence snickers under him, a teasing little thing that makes Keith want to elbow him in the face and hop on his dick all at once.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s disturbing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look,” Matt mutters into his skin, nipping at his jaw. “Not that I’m not loving the scratch of this dirty carpet and breathing dust mites, but do you wanna move this somewhere else?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith hauls Matt off the floor and across the apartment, ripping at clothing as they go, and shoves him into the mess of sheets on his bed. Matt looks absolutely bewildered, suddenly shirtless and winded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith wastes no time, gracelessly stripping out of his clothes before settling back into his previous position perched on top of his best friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt’s hands gravitate to Keith’s thighs, blunt nails digging into the flesh just beneath his ass. “Commando, Keith, really?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith snorts. “This is my house, I wear or don’t wear what I want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt grins and wiggles his eyebrows. It’s annoyingly attractive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith shoves his open palm in Matt’s face, just because he can, when he leans over to dig through the top drawer of his bedside table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt protests in the shape of muffled profanities and a sharp pinch to the inside of Keith’s thigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith jumps at the shot of pain and hisses. He shoots back with the bottle of lube in hand, and hits the damned guy with it before slapping it to Matt’s chest. “Get to work, you menace.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt straight up giggles and grabs the bottle, and Keith finds himself impatient to get back to having his tongue in his mouth. Which is pathetic, but fuck it, he’s already grinding on his best friends dick. He’s got no shame left to take from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watches Matt coat his fingers, rolling his hips just the littlest bit as he waits. Which isn’t all that long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt is uncharacteristically efficient fingering him, which is something Keith really fucking appreciates. He hasn’t done this in a /while/, and just now he can not remember why. It’s wet and slick and the stretch is so, so good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he decides he’s ready, he’s a panting mess, rutting against Matt’s hand. It spurs him on to see Matt turning successively redder, the sweat beading on his brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit this is going to be awesome.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he tosses the condom on Matt’s chest, he’s just coherent enough to level the guy with a threatening glare, daring him to say something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s quiet for a bit, and Keith can really see the options bouncing back and forth between the equal parts of Matt that a) want to get his dick wet, and b) can’t pass up a chance at a bad joke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know if we-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dare you to finish that sentence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt bites down on the laugh bubbling up in his throat, and nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe you can teach old dogs to sit after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Matt scrambles with the condom, Keith smirks and pats him on the cheek. “Good boy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It should be awkward, his best friend fumbling to roll a rubber on under his own raised hips, but it’s not. If anything, it’s an infuriating wait. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It can’t have been more than 30 seconds, but Keith ran all out of patience long ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so fucking slow-” he grits, fingers reaching back to speed things the hell up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s too slow on registering the mischief on Matt’s face, and finds himself on his back in the next breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a shit.” Matt says it like it’s something filthy, breathing the words into Keith’s neck. He spreads Keith’s thighs to their limit, with stupid strong hands Keith suddenly wants fucking /everywhere/ at once kneading the flesh in their hold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great dirty talk, love it.” Keith’s going for deadpan, but his breath hitches on the last word when the guy decides in the middle of a sentence is a great time to line his dick up with his hole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not even going to care if Matt gives him shit for moaning like a whore, for his eyes rolling back in his skull. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been a long while since he’s done this, but he could swear it’s never this good right away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God is cruel, creating the perfect dick but putting it on his oldest friend. How’s he supposed to go to the Holt’s house on Christmas and look Colleen in the eyes after this?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Who the fuck cares.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holy shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slings his arms over Matt’s shoulders, crushing them close together as Matt sets a slow pace that makes him go dumb. It’s so pronounced like this, every inch of the slide, every involuntary clench of his asshole when Matt pulls back to the tip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt grunts and hiccups into the crease of his shoulder and neck, hot exhales making Keith’s nerves tingle with every punched out breath. The pleasant buzz of it carries straight down his spine to the molten, sizzling thing in his lower belly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s whimpering in no time, trembling where he’s clinging to the guy fucking him better than he ever thought was possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-hahh I’m-” he gives up, apparently he’s finally out of words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that he seems to need it, and he throws his head back with a nasty moan when Matt reads his mind, curling a hand around his cock where it’s caught between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He jacks him off to his own increasing pace, and it’s all Keith can do not to scream as his balls pull tight and the heat in his groin starts to spill into his veins. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sparklers popping and burning and sparkling fill his brain, and he comes with a breathless curse, spilling hot onto Matt’s working fist. He grapples blindly, both feet hooking over Matt’s thighs as his fingers run stinging streaks down his back just to claw at the top of Matt’s ass and hips to keep him moving, to not lose the pace as he fucks him through his orgasm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s sobbing with it, with every quick thrust as the over-sensitivity kicks in and he feels his limbs start to tremble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, /Keith/-” Matt sounds so out of it, so overwhelmed, and it’s the hottest fucking thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon Matty-” Keith angles his head, searches out the shell of Matt’s ear to scrape it with his teeth, to nip at the stretched earring dangling there. It makes Matt shiver, and Keith revels in how it has those hips kick and shoot a bolt of pleasure-pain up Keith’s spine. “C’mon-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt whimpers as it rolls through him, rutting desperately into Keith who clenches down on him, feeling him twitch as he comes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t even hit him, as the dust settles and they’re both coming off their high, that things might be weird. He just hisses as Matt pulls out, lets the guy collapse on his back next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a little while they just breathe. But Keith can feel it coming long before Matt even opens his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one ever has to know it makes him smile a little to himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith I don’t think I’m ready for kids yet.” He turns his head to flash Keith a tired grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But, like,” Matt slides a hand up to rest on Keith’s tummy. “-there’s nothing wrong with practise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ends up on the floor, whining and laughing all the like while Keith proceeds to roll over with the intention of taking a well deserved nap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith always ends up in weird places thanks to Matthew Holt, but he’s never really minded.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>